


You and I Were Made for This

by jolybird



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Pendragon Returns, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 10:10:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1895148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jolybird/pseuds/jolybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin joined the Rebels because they were the lesser of several evils. He joined because each time war broke out, he was sure that this was the worst it could possibly get. He joined because one day Arthur would rise again and he had no choice but to wait until that day arrived.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You and I Were Made for This

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Merlin Arts Fest 2014  
> Prompt: It’s cold. The rain won’t stop falling, and he/she is all alone. And then they see a light coming from far away.

Waiting for the world’s darkest day wasn’t exactly exciting. Sure, Merlin had saved lives. He had defended Albion, and the planet and the galaxy and various planets in nearby nebulae (space travel had come a long way since the 20th century and thank fuck for that; early space travel gave him the _worst_ headaches). But waiting took so _long_. He watched entire nations fight for independence and then flicker out like flames. He watched once powerful empires be divided up like slices of pizza (literally in Ormona’s case, which was ironic because once he had gotten food poisoning from a pizza there. To this day he was still convinced it was somehow partially his fault).

Merlin volunteered for so many wars, each time certain that this was as bad as it got—that this time Arthur would have to come back for sure.

He never did.

Sometimes Merlin thought it’d be easier to just give up, to abandon the world to its fate but…it’s not like he even had a choice in the matter. There was no escape from this constant waiting. He had been cursed inside a tree for a hundred years, spent two hundred at the bottom of a lake, been trapped a whopping 15 days inside a cave before some hikers accidentally freed him. He ran his body to exhaustion, and it just wouldn’t quit. He was stuck waiting for Arthur, for the world to reach such a fucking low that the Once and Future King was its only option.

Despite everything, despite the horrors and the hours that weighed heavily on his bones, whenever the world was in trouble, Merlin stepped up to the plate and every time Arthur was a no show.

This time wasn’t any different. If you asked him what precisely started the war, Merlin probably wouldn’t be able to tell you, but then again, neither could 99% of the population. Someone once upon a time had an affair with someone’s husband which in turn brought to light illegal dealings that were ruining another country or something and everything just kind of went to hell from there.

The years didn’t matter. But whatever. The year was 4670 and Merlin was a capitol R Rebel.

The term “Rebel” was misleading because they weren’t, in fact, rebelling from anything, at least not anymore. When the war started, Merlin had actually been on the opposing side. When the war started there were only two sides.

That was two hundred years ago.

Last Merlin checked there were about twelve different factions fighting each other. There was a map back at base. It was holographic so it could easily be changed.

Merlin’s ship rocked and he blinked out of his daze. A glance to his screen showed him that his second engine had stopped working. He pressed the communication button, “Rei, I’ve got a problem.”

“A real problem this time?”

“Second engine just died.”

“Well shit.”

Merlin grimaced and fixed his controls so that he was going half speed. His tiny scouting ship drifted to the left, and he tried to counter it to no avail. He jammed the communicator again, “Who’s near me?”

“Valerie’s closest and Marie-Constance is a little farther from you. I’m sending them both over, you’re a little too close to Badb IV for my liking. It looks like you’re drifting towards it.”

Merlin glanced to his right where the green planet loomed uncomfortably close, “That’s because I am. I’m turning non-essentials off.”

“Valerie says she can reach you in a half hour.”

“Great.” Merlin replied sarcastically.

“Merlin—“ Rei began but Merlin flipped the communicator off so he could try to magic the engine back to life. They didn’t know about his magic, most of the time he kept it a secret, it was just easier that way. He knew the duel-engines were a design flaw from the get-go. It was okay when there was zero gravity but when you were close to something, then it’d pull you right in. The lights on the dashboard for the engine lit up but it didn't start up again. Merlin slammed his fist into the screen and the lights flickered off. Despite what others might say, Merlin wasn't all powerful, his magic had limitations just like everything else.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Merlin hissed, trying to get the ship away from Badb IV. He could already feel the gravity pulling him in and shit, this was not supposed to be happening. He called upon his magic again, this time to try to physically push the ship away from the planet but even the most powerful sorcerer couldn’t counteract gravity.

Well. Maybe.

Merlin kept the controls steady and concentrated on trying to magic his way out of the situation.

The following ten minutes much too closely resembled his first time in an automotive for his liking, especially when his ship slammed into the surface of Badb IV, he smacked his head into the controls and blacked out.

 

Merlin’s first thought upon waking what must have been seconds later was of Simon Frassin’s stupid face as he jumped into the front seat of the automotive and said, _I’ve seen tons of people do it before, how hard could it possibly be?_ But it wasn’t 1890-whatever, it was 4670 and he had crashed his ship because he hadn’t been paying close enough attention to the controls.

Groaning, he pushed away from the controls and gingerly flexed his legs.

He should have concentrated on flying.

Fortunately, he was largely uninjured, just a few cuts and bruises (again, thank you modern space travel and probably his magic). Unfortunately, when he flipped the communicator on, the line was dead.

“Great.” He muttered, twisting around in his seat to fumble around the cockpit for his bag; he kept his personal communicator in there. Groping around, he found the communicator and switched it to Base Frequency, “Rei? Can you hear me? I crashed.”

While waiting for a response, Merlin pulled his bag into the front of the cockpit and looked outside. The windows were fogged and when he wiped it away, he was dismayed to see that it was pouring.

Merlin switched his communicator over to Pilot Frequency, in hopes that Valerie or Marie-Constance could hear him. “This is Merlin, I crashed onto Badb IV, I’m okay but I’m stuck.”

Okay so. He had at most a half hour until Valerie was here and he could potentially wait here. However, there was a very good chance that someone had seen him crash (there was a reason he was scouting this area in the first place) and he didn’t feel like playing prisoner today. Good thing this planet wasn't toxic.

After he gathered his things and made sure the communicator was safely tucked into his jacket pocket, he kicked the door out and immediately wished he didn’t. A cold breeze swept into the cockpit and Merlin pulled his jacket tighter around him while simultaneously pulling his scarf up over his face. The others teased him about trying to be fashionable but who had the extra warmth now?

Climbing out of the ruins of the ship he vaguely realized now that it was actually on fire a little and okay. First thing first, get out of the flaming shipwreck.

He was glad no one was around to see the ungainly way he climbed out of the ship and mostly slid to the wet ground. By the time he was back on his feet, he was soaked to the bone with a pounding headache. He had landed in a clearing and so Merlin walked to the edge of the forest and stepped into the tree line, trying to find any kind of shelter from the wind and rain. There was a little but not much.

As a rule, Merlin didn’t mess around with atmospheres but he was starting to consider it now. The rain was _freezing_. Instead of stopping the rain, Merlin just conjured up a small water-proof flame to keep him warm as he walked deeper into the woods. He wouldn’t go too far, but if there was a cave or something around here, he was going to find it. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the communicator and continued his attempt to contact the others.

He wasn’t afraid of the elements; he hadn’t found a way to die yet. A boy in the 26th century once witnessed him getting struck by shrapnel like he was a pincushion and just calmly asked him, “What are you like Wolverine or something?” instead of, you know, freaking out. Merlin had liked him, he helped him pull the shrapnel out and had kept his magic a secret unconditionally. Merlin wasn't afraid of freezing to death. Caching a cold was a pain in the ass though. But maybe he could milk a few days sick leave out of this.

A flash of something metal caught Merlin’s eye right as he finished casting a spell to strengthen his signal. Some days he wished he never joined the Rebels. Sure, they were who he agreed with most, but they had the worst technology.

The gleam had almost looked like—

Merlin abandoned his attempts at contacting the others though his communicator and instead just gawked at the sword lying on the forest floor in front of him.

Shoving the communicator back into his pocket and letting the flame die in his hand,  he quickly stepped over and picked it up. He could barely feel the hilt of the sword, his fingers were red and shaking. If this rain had been made of Earth water, he would probably be stranded in the middle of a blizzard. He stared at it with narrowed brows. Last he knew it was still sitting at the bottom of Avalon Lake with whatever was left of Arthur’s bones. But here it was on Badb IV.

He spun around looking for—well, honestly, _anything_ in this rain but he was completely alone. Stepping closer to a tree, he examined the sword. It was undamaged and clear, looking exactly like it had when it had been thrown into the lake.

He lowered the sword and looked around, completely at a loss for what to do now. At least he felt a little better about crashing his ship, apparently it might have been destiny if Excalibur was here. The rain beat down on him and right as he took a step forward, a light appeared to his left.

Merlin squinted at it as it flickered in and out between the trees. He glanced down to the sword in his hand and then back up. Sighing, he walked towards the light.

As he got closer he realized that it was a group of idiots walking in the rain, they looked ready for a fight (except for one who inexplicably had a pink umbrella over her head) and so Merlin just sort of hung out and watched them from a (probably too close, but that’s okay he had magic to distract them) distance.

Then his heart stopped when the one holding the flashlight turned towards him.

He stood tall, with his shoulders back, one hand on the holster on his waist. His head was covered by a hood but he could see blond hair pressed against his forehead and his eyes—

He looked exactly like Arthur.

Merlin must have gasped or something because the Arthur look-a-like spun around, shining his light on Merlin’s half-hidden face. Merlin ducked back behind the tree but then someone gasped, “ _Merlin?_ ”

How hard had he hit his head? Should he be worried? Had his age caught up with him? He had felt fine that morning.

“Arthur?” one of the women asked cautiously and Merlin had to force back a hollow laugh, what kind of trick was this?

“Merlin.” The voice ordered again and Merlin stepped out from behind the tree. The Arthur look-a-like stared at him open mouthed and then he shook his head, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“’m ship crashed.” His voice was hoarse but it was just so fucking cold out and Excalibur and now this disgustingly familiar man. It had been thousands of years, did he even look like Arthur or did he just look like how Merlin misremembered him?

“Sweetie, what’s your name?” The shortest girl, the one with the pink umbrella, asked and really, the others looked ready to fight to the death and her she was ready for a stroll. Unless the umbrella was a weapon too. He’d call her Hagrid. He’d always loved how enduring the book series was (although JK Rowling never did write a “short story collection. Sometimes humanity was so embarrassing. Although the 3027 movie focusing on Percy Weasley was a work of fucking art, even if they confused the 1990s with the 2030s.)

“Merlin.” He finally forced out when he realized he probably had to respond to that, unable to take his eyes off of the Arthur-clone.

“Arthur, he a friend of yours?”

“Yes.” Arthur strode forward, pulling off his coat to wrap around Merlin’s shivering shoulders. “My best friend.”

“How come I’ve never heard about him?” Hagrid asked, pouting.

“Never came up. Come on let’s get him back.”

“He’s got your sword.”

“Oh—I thought I lost it.”

“Why do you have it?” Merlin asked, taking a step back, pulling Arthur’s coat tighter around him, just to feel the warmth. Arthur needed it more, Merlin’s continued existence was because of how painfully mortal Arthur was but Merlin just needed to feel the warmth. If this really was his friend, he needed to feel he was alive.

Arthur looked down at him, three parts offended, one part confused. “It’s mine, why wouldn’t I have it?”

“Did you get it out from the lake?”

The blond glanced behind him to the others, all of whom looked as confused as Merlin felt, but maybe not quite as numb. “I’ll tell you later.”

 

*

 

“You’re lucky we found you when we did.” Hagrid informed him quietly, looking his fingers over when they had made it back to their base. In his right hand he held a steaming cup of tea. “You very nearly have frost bite and hypothermia was already setting in. I hate this planet.” She sighed, and then poked at the tip of his nose. “You’re really lucky actually. You have a minor concussion but all those scrapes and bruises are harmless. When was the last time you ate anything?”

“I’m fine.” Merlin sat in a chair across from her, impassive. This could be a trap. Or he could be making this all up. Or it was a coincidence. He had once joined a swim team because of its blond-haired, blue-eyed captain named Arthur. But that was a story he was never telling anyone.

“Go get him something to eat.” Arthur, the only other person in the room, ordered.

The woman looked to Arthur and then nodded to herself and headed for the door. “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes. Arthur behave.”

As soon as she left the room Merlin’s indifference became icy. He glared at the blond from over the steaming mug. “Arthur.” His voice was flat and even, but with an almost accusing tone to it. “What’s your last name?”

“Pendragon.”

“Arthur Pendragon.”

Arthur seemed to immediately understand what Merlin was getting at. “I woke up on Earth, twenty years ago. I was fifteen.  _Again_. Inolina--she's the one who just left--her family found me and took me in."

“Avalon?” Merlin asked.

“Not quite, that’s all underwater now but I woke up on the beach, the nearest spot of land to it. It took a while to get used to but never mind that what the fuck are you doing here?”

“I never left.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean I can’t—couldn’t—die. I’ve been waiting for thousands of years for you to show up.”

“What do you mean, show up? You knew I’d be back?”

Merlin took in a deep breath and drank the last of the tea. He set his empty mug on the table and wrung his hands together and leaned forward before speaking, “Do you remember the Great Dragon?”

“The one I killed?”

“Yeah. So. You didn’t kill him. I lied. It’s complicated. I was the last dragon lord and I ordered him to stay away from Camelot.”

“Excuse me, what?”

“Yeah. Well, when you died, I called him and I tried to save you. I got you to the lake. Except you were already dead. He said that you were the once and future king and you would rise again when Albion’s need was greatest. And here you are.”

“How?”

“Does it look like I know?”

“Merlin, you’re a four thousand year old wizard, if anyone would know, it’s you.”

“Yeah. Well.” They were silent for a moment and then Merlin looked back to Arthur who sat in his chair, staring at his hands. “What’re you doing?

“I’m trying to wrap my mind around the fact that you’ve been alive this whole time.”

“Don’t.” Merlin immediately snapped, a sort of tight panic around his eyes, almost smothered by the fatigue. “Don’t try to rationalize. It’s best if you just accept it and move on.” Arthur stared at him and so Merlin looked away, “How did we meet?”

“What?”

“In Camelot. How did we meet?”

“You decided it was a good idea to accost the Prince of Camelot and then cheated in a fight.”

“What’s the last thing you said to me?”

Arthur was quiet for such a long moment that Merlin’s chest tightened at the thought that Arthur didn’t know. That this was all some kind of joke or rouse. But then, just as Merlin clenched his fists, Arthur spoke and his voice was kind, “Thank you.” Merlin looked up to see a gentle smile on his face and, fuck it, he was believing that this was him. Arthur was back.

A uncontrollable laugh escaped from his chest and Arthur was across the room immediately. He put a hand on his shoulder and asked if he was alright. Merlin shook his head, “I never want to hear you complaining about having to wait.”

Arthur’s worry melted away into disbelief and he laughed as well, shaking his head. Merlin reached up and put a hand over Arthur’s on his shoulder and Arthur took it as an invitation to pull him into a hug. Merlin’s heart raced in his chest but he hugged him back tightly.

How many nights did he spend praying to every god there was for this moment? He still didn’t fully believe it was really happening (how could he? He had spent _four thousand_ years waiting) but he wanted to and this alone was enough for him. No one loves the light like a blind man and Merlin was much too old to pretend he wasn’t desperate.

After a moment Arthur patted him on the back and Merlin forced himself to let go.

Merlin cleared his throat and then asked, “Who are you fighting for?”

“Queen Nenen.”

He scrunched up his nose, “I’m with the Rebels.”

“ _Merlin_.”

When Merlin opened his mouth, his plan was to tell Arthur why the Rebels were the least damaging of the bunch. However what came out was an affronted, “Queen Nenen's grandmother tried to have me beheaded!”

Arthur gave him a look that said that he understood how she felt but then his expression became clouded and serious, “Do you still have magic?”

Merlin bit back the wave of nausea that washed over him when he realized that Arthur still linked beheading with magic. Regardless, he reached out his hand and made a tiny fire dragon appear. Arthur gawked at it and Merlin vanished the dragon quickly, the memory of the first time he showed Arthur that trick still haunted him. The look on Arthur's face and the way he shifted away from him.

“Well that makes things simpler. Now I know you can somewhat protect yourself.”

“ _Somewhat_?” Merlin gaped but before he could say anymore, Arthur’s…adopted sister walked into the room, biting her lip.

“We have a problem. Two Rebel scouts are headed this way.”

“They’re looking for Merlin.”

Merlin didn’t know if it was a good thing or bad thing that Inolina (that’s what Arthur had called her, right?) shot him an impressed look and not one of distrust. “I’m one of them.” he said quickly before she could get the wrong idea.

Inolina frowned and somehow managed to look disappointed “You don’t look like a Rebel.”

“Well it's not like we have uniforms or anything,” Merlin shrugged, “I’m nothing exciting.”

Arthur stepped in front of Merlin, “Order the others to not shoot, Merlin you come with me, we’re going to talk to them.”

“Talk to the Rebels.” Inolina asked blankly but then she shook her head and left the room. Merlin kinda liked her already, just on principle because she had to deal with Arthur on a regular basis. Arthur walked over to the door. Merlin didn’t think he was going to wait for him, that he was just going to expect him to follow but then he paused in the doorway and looked back.

“You ready?”

“Well I very well can’t let you go off on your own.” Merlin sighed and Arthur rolled his eyes.

“Let’s do this.” Arthur smiled and, heavens help him, Merlin found himself grinning back.


End file.
